


You Owe Me New Sheets

by orphan_account



Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/M, Rule 63
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-13
Updated: 2012-02-13
Packaged: 2017-10-31 02:20:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/338805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Karkat has a moment to herself.  Her thoughts quickly trail to a certain someone...</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Owe Me New Sheets

Stupid. This is completely and utterly stupid.

Karkat had gone to her very human bed that night with all intentions to merely close her eyes and drift off into the world of slumber. Her sheets were freshly washed and her numerous pillows properly fluffed. The bed was more like a nest, and she was fully prepared to burrow herself under a blanket or two to sleep the horrid day away.

Of course, that’s not how the process of life works, and especially not after hours of spending time with someone your mind is too god damn preoccupied with.

Against the voices screaming in the back of her mind to stop… One of her hands found its way into her stripe clad panties, fingers seeking out the unbearable warmth brought about by him.

“Fuck.” The word is a breath escaping her lungs. ”Oh, _fuck_.” And another, the harmony of a whine joining the mix.

She’s found just the right spot, the perfect spot. Her pace is desperate now, as the warmth of her arousal slick skin spreads inward. Internally. She can feel it in her lower belly, her inner thighs, even shocks of it spreading like tendrils of ivy into her toes and fingers. With every second and every brush of her fingers against such a sensitive spot, each whine that slips from her throat grows louder. Her whimpers of his name grow closer together. 

Karkat is in her own beautiful little world, where she doesn’t notice how tightly curled her toes are or how her thighs are trembling or that between all the sounds she’s holding her breath for too long. All she can think about is him. His bright eyes, his stupid smile. The warmth of his lips, the gentle touch of his hands. She wishes so desperately for the press of his body against her own. In these moments, it’s almost like he’s here — his piano-perfect fingers the ones bringing her closer and closer…

Until her back arches elegantly off the bed, her breath stolen right out of her lungs while her body finally, finally takes the perfect plunge. Instead of crying out of whimpering or even moaning, she’s practically sobbing, her chest heaving with the effort. Never has this been so fucking intense. A new universe might as well be exploding into life behind her eyelids.

With a gasp, it’s all over.

John Egbert…

You owe her new sheets.


End file.
